"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
You couldn’t see the wall at first. The wind howled, drowning out the very sound of Dacia’s beating heart. Were it not for the crystalline puffs of breath coming from her nose in front of her, the color-changing mare would begin to doubt her own existence. But she is alive, more so now than she has been in previous years. A passing thought, more a memory really, sparks within her and she shudders before pressing forward in her journey. Winter was quickly approaching, so her journey to view the Tundra was ill-timed but still necessary. One of the only Kingdoms steeped in secrecy and secluded behind their ice fortress, the land of stallions hadn’t been the ideal destination for the newly pregnant mare, but she’d dreamed of it a few nights past and set out as soon as she could manage.
Should trouble befall her, she doubts she’ll have a hard time blending in to this particular background. For now, though, she’s kept her original green coat, treading carefully along the worn path that had begun to lose its effectiveness under the cover of snow. The further she seemed to transgress, the more her surroundings seemed to blend and offer no guidance. Admittedly, she could choose at any moment to turn back and head home, but as she pivots slowly and gazes behind her, she realizes that may not be as easy as she hoped. “Bother…” She thinks, turning again in what she assumes is the correct direction before plodding ahead.
It is only then that the very top of the wall comes to view, glistening in horrible glory as the sun reflects off of it. Towering above her and extending to either side, disappearing into the pale expanse of white. The shudder returns, but for a different reason this time. Out here, she’s more aware than ever just how much she’ll stick out.
I love the way the ice seeps into my bones. I love how it sinks through my skin and reaches into my chest and digs in until I am too numb to think, to feel anything but the all-consuming cold. I should be happy. There's no reason for the sorrow that creeps in through the cracks in my jagged heart, not when I'm so lucky. I'm surrounded by people who love me, people I would do anything for. People I would die for in less than a beat of my shattered glass heart. They've pieced me back together and patched me up, and sometimes I still feel so...
So I love the way the cold numbs even that inexplicable sadness, makes it so I can't feel anything at all. With a heavy sigh, I soldier on, pushing through drifts of snow as the wind howls in my ears and tangles with my ashen mane. I shouldn't be out, not on a day like today and certainly not with shadows welling up in my chest and mingling with the icy touch of oncoming winter. As blessed as I am, there are still times when I can't bear the touch of my parents or my siblings, when I can't curl up into their embrace and let their love rain down on me and wash away the dark.
That doesn't even make sense. None of it does, though. I hate that it still hurts, that it's still so heavy, that those shadows can be so dense and substantial that they weigh down my whole body, making it next to impossible to move. It's not always. Most days, I cuddle and tell stories with Argo, coax songs out of Mari, have adventures with Leelee. Most days, I curl into Mom's chest and feel nothing but her boundless love chasing away the dark, or talk to Offspring, maybe even shyly ask him to play. He makes an excellent pirate captain, or dragon, or abominable snow monster.
So how, with all these people who love me, can I still sometimes feel so alone? Like I'm drowning in darkness, being washed away by a black sea of sorrow, like the waves are slowly eroding everything I am, everything my family has helped me to become. How could I waste what they've done for me wallowing in pain that has no right to touch me anymore? How could I be so ungrateful?
I wonder if the Tundra could reach inside my chest and—Mom would be mad if she heard me think that, so I cut the thought off and focus on the ice and snow against my legs, the chill of the wind as it strokes along my skin stealing body heat through my thick winter coat the color of shadows and dirt. Just stop thinking. Just stop—hey, what's that? Green is definitely not a common sight in the Tundra in winter, and as I come up to the gap in the great ice wall—because where else would I wander when I want the cold to seep into my chest and turn the shadows to so much murky ice?—a flash of green distracts me from my determined not thinking.
It's a little ways off, and I squint, focusing in on the approaching stranger. A lady, which I'm coming to learn is a bit unusual in the frozen kingdom. The Tundra, despite being home to my whole family, is a land populated primarily by stallions, with mares unable to participate in kingdom politics or hold positions or titles. Maybe she is the mate of one of the other stallions, coming home after a visit elsewhere or a wander. But as she draws closer I can see she doesn't have the warm winter coat of a Tundra resident. A visitor?
Perking my ears, I walk toward her, meeting her outside the wall. She's larger than I am, but just about everyone is. I'm barely a yearling, and small runs in my blood. Pretty, though, with her coat the color of springtime. As a representative of my father's kingdom, I'm on my best behavior when I greet her. “Hello, ma'am. Welcome to the Tundra. My name is Nevi. How can I help you?”
The colt reminds her of Wyrm, her nephew. Behind his eyes lurks an intelligent spark that’s easy to detect from his polite tone. “Such a gentleman.” She thinks, offering a soft smile in exchange for his warm welcome. Dacia thinks it’s a bit odd that in this great wide expanse of snowy wasteland she’s greeted by the young boy, but perhaps it’s symbolic in a way. The Tundra men have no concern for the whims of women, whereas the colt makes an excellent envoy. He seems right at home here, not disturbed in the least by the winds that cause her shoulders to tremble from the cold.
A curious little fellow. “Nevi, what an unusual name.” Dacia ponders aloud, looking the colt over. “I’m Dacia, from the Chamber.” She says, wondering already if she’s let too much slip. The Tundra and the Chamber were cordial with each other now, at best, and Dacia doesn’t want to slight them by thinking that Killdare had sent a mare to do his dirty work. “I come alone though. I had an itch to see the wall.” She tells him, glancing up to the dizzying height of ice. Impressive, in the least. What sort of magic or manpower could erect such a monument? Then again, what sort of power could destroy it?
She thinks of flames but quickly extinguishes the thought, turning her attention back to the dark youngling. “Tell me Nevi, what’s on the other side of this wall? Is there much to do here or do you get bored sometimes?” She asks, quirking an ear to the side so that the wind won’t drown out his reply. It fascinates her - all of it. The bachelor lifestyle, the harsh elements. A true test of manhood to grow up in a place like this. It makes her wonder what sort of stallion Nevi will become when he matures. Innocence is a short-lived period, but the boy wears it so well Dacia cannot stand the idea that he may some day be a brutal brother.
I know you're trying to fight when you feel like flying.
I duck my head shyly as the stranger comments on my name. I suppose it is an unusual one; my mother truncated the name my birth mother gave me, the one that stitched sorrow into my soul from the moment I was born. Isle changed it into something sweeter, holding me close and adding light to the shadows left in that first mother's wake. Every time I speak my name, it is a reminder that she loves me, that I am wanted, that I am home. “It's nice to meet you, Dacia.”
I confess, I don't know much about kingdom politics. More of my attention has been turned to telling stories than to hearing them. The Tundra is a backdrop, the caves providing shelter, the plains giving my sisters room to run and frolic and play. Even I sometimes indulge, especially with Lissie and Leelee much more inclined to drag me into adventure than to leave me to my thoughts. My life is my family, not the kingdom we live in. Even if my father is the king. So I find myself a little lost, unsure of the Tundra's relationship to the Chamber or if that means something significant I should be concerned about.
However, Dacia seems more interested in a sight-seeing venture than one of political discourse. Thank goodness. “The wall is very impressive, isn't it? Even in the middle of summer, when the snow on the plains melts, the wall is just as towering. I thought it was intimidating the first time I saw it, but now...” Now that narrow gap in the wall is the gateway into paradise, the place I have ever felt welcome or wanted or loved. The great frozen wall reminds me of my giant, ice-coated father. Strong and steady and always there to protect his loved ones. “Now it feels like safety and home.”
I'm not sure, to be honest, how much I am supposed to tell a stranger about the land beyond the wall. When she asks, I bite my lower lip, considering my answer before I speak. “There's plenty to explore especially in the warmer parts of the year, and I spend a lot of time with my family too. I have sisters and a brother, so there's always something to do. And if I get bored, I can go to the Playground too. But I don't get bored often.”
An idea tickles the back of my mind, and I pause, letting it filter its way forward. Curiosity mingled with dawning inspiration prompt my next words. “What is the Chamber like?” What better way to find out how this should work than to ask questions in return. Maybe her answers will help me understand how much I'm supposed to say. And I genuinely want to know. I've wandered around Beqanna probably more than I should have so far. But I haven't visited any other kingdoms. It would be fun to learn about another.
The snow melts, then? Bows even to the will of the sun. But their wall stands firm in its duty, towering above them all as a proud reminder of the brothers past and future. Dacia is unsure why the thought makes her smile, yet it does. It’s the way little Nevi speaks of it, holding it close to his heart with reverent appreciation and something tender. If he could love it, certainly others could too. She won’t disagree with his idea of the wall being a symbol of safety - anyone would be foolish to think otherwise, but the way he spins his story makes her almost welcome the sharp bite of the wind.
“I had one half-brother growing up and he was terribly mean.” Dacia tells him, lowering her head to narrow her eyes playfully. Lupei was a source of constant amusement for her in her younger years, simply because she knew he was unable to lash out at her horrible behavior. Time had changed that though, and somehow the wolf of Beqanna had become her closest confidant and protector. She knew that if she should ever falter, he’d be there to shelter her. Nevi was lucky to have siblings so close, Dacia could attest to that. “But all that’s changed now.” She tells him, quirking her lips into a soft smile. “Family is the truest form of love you’ll ever find.”
His interest in her own home had her raising her head, affectionate pleasure warming her insides at the thought of sharing her shadowy kingdom with the colt. “Not quite as cold.” She chuckles, “There are evergreens everywhere there, so thick you nearly drown in the smell. It’s quiet, secluded, and mostly shaded from the sun. The mountains and valleys give it a rolling sort of terrain but that only makes the body strong.” Dacia relays, mind drifting back to the comforts of her childhood home. “I was born there.” She tells him, though she’s not sure why. Perhaps it’s because even now she feels the thud of the heartbeat beneath her hooves. That sensation causes her to remember something and her features brighten with excitement.
“At the center of the kingdom is a burning tree, if you believe it or not. It never extinguishes. Some say that if you stare long enough into the flames, you can see your future played out.” She explains, going to great lengths to add some sense of mysticism to her voice. She’d seen the tree once or twice but it had never truly captivated her like it had others. The future was a wonderful thing to think on, but a terrible thing to linger in. Best to not see what was coming, that was for sure. Her tail flips absent-mindedly, a shiver making its way along her muscles while she blows the cold from her lungs. She waits patiently for his reply, but sees that her journey should probably come to an end soon. Night would come before she had time to prepare for it, and Dacia would rather not be caught unawares in the middle of the snow-laden kingdom when it descended.
I know you're trying to fight when you feel like flying.
As Dacia talks about family, I find myself nodding in agreement. It is certainly the truest form of love I have ever known, though my family is not related to me by blood. My family loves me far more than my blood relatives ever did, or ever could. I have no idea who my father was, and my mother had no interest in me beyond branding me with a name declaring what she thought of me to the world. My brother? He was left just like I was. Maybe we would have been something amazing if we'd stayed together, brothers by far more than blood. But we will never have the chance to find out.
“I was lucky,” I tell her quietly, staring at the ground, then peeking up at her through ashen lashes. “My birth family didn't feel that way, about family being any form of love. But my...my real family, the family that made me theirs when I had nothing, they're like that. The truest form of love. Unconditional, absolute, so much more than--” Than I deserve. Than I can bear, some days. “--than the ones who walked away. They are why I love it here. They are what makes the Tundra feel like home to me.”
I smile at Dacia's enthusiasm, my brown eyes going wide with interest. “That sounds quite lovely. Though...though I don't think I'd care to see my future,” I add, doubt creeping into my voice. I hope she's not offended, because it does sound like a wondrous thing, this tree of hers. Or her kingdom's, rather. The future is filled with looming shadows, dark uncertainties that are somehow less horrible than knowing what they hide. I don't want to know what the future holds, what is written in my family's stars. Not with Argo's hurting heart, or his difficulty running, or his fight for breath. Not after the wolves and near disaster.
The last thing in the world I want is to know for sure. I carry enough secrets; I think that one might kill me. Although...if there were a way to change our stars...ah, but I can see Dacia eying the sky, noting the way the sun creeps toward the western horizon. “Have I kept you too long? I apologize. If you need to speak to my fa—to King Offspring, I could try to find him for you. I know you have a long journey home ahead of you. Or. Um, if you need to stay the night, to get an early start in the morning? I could ask. I don't...I'm sorry, I don't really know the proper protocol yet.”
I lower my head, embarrassed to put a visitor in such an awkward position. I should ask Dad to teach me what to do in a situation like this. He's a busy man, though, and I hate to interrupt. Especially when he's on kingdom business, and especially when there are siblings to play with and entertain. Still, I should know these things. Or at least how to smooth things over when I don't.
